Something New
by SeattleGirl359
Summary: She survived, turned up in Alexandria, and yes she can get used to the people staring at her because of the scars. But they were all different. Maggie was different, Rick was different, Daryl was different. Everyone. Beth herself was different, not even recognizing herself sometimes. But they move forward. They have to. There wasn't another option. Picks up in 5b. Bethyl
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks to MikaelaLouise who gave me the idea to write a tipsy Beth. I enjoyed writing this and I might add a few more chapters on. I kind of wrote Beth into the episode a little bit because I always imagine her being there.**

—

The party was something else.

Beth was there in a flowy black dress that came down to about mid-thigh, a zipper in the back, and short sleeves that fluttered off her shoulders. It was one of the nicest things she had worn in a while. Maggie had picked it out just for her and told her she should wear it tonight so Beth did to appease her sister, who was then smiling and talking with people like it was all normal at the party. It was normal to _them_, not to the group, and not to Beth.

It was a joke.

She hated that she felt that way, but it was indeed how she felt. The way of life in Alexandria was a joke.

But she was there. She showed up and stood alongside Maggie and Glenn as they mingled with the Alexandrians about normal everyday life. She chirped in a few times, but only when asked a direct question. She gave the occasional nod or smile when people would look her way, but for the most part, she stood there and stared out the window next to her with a blank face, longing to be outside in the quiet.

It wasn't until she was asked about the scar on her head, and that was when she had enough. A bullet, she explained. That was how she got the mark on her forehead. And the scar on her cheek was from some cop bitch how had given her the bullet to the head. The look on the red haired woman's face after she said that made it all worth it, even the attitude Beth left with.

It was too much for her.

Beth escaped to the porch for some much needed air after that, pushing past Maggie who had tried to grab her arm and say something she deemed as encouraging, but Beth didn't hear it, refused to hear it, so she retreated to the porch and shut the door behind her. That moment of silence was exactly what she had needed and Beth walked toward the railing to put her hands on it and take a breath.

She could see herself fitting in there in Alexandria, just not yet, she needed time. They all did. Time, however, was never on their side. There always too little of it.

"Not fond of parties?"

Abraham's voice startled her, and she turned to face him. In the dark of the porch, Abraham was slowly bringing a beer bottle to his lips to finish it off.

"We both know it's not the party I'm not fond of," Beth muttered, looking out into the yard below, examining the freshly cut flowers and the cookie-cutter landscape. She wondered what Daryl thought of all this. Hated it probably, but he hadn't talked to her much since she wandered into Alexandria a couple days ago.

Abraham deeply chuckled, setting the beer down onto the porch railing. "Yeah, I know. Things aren't like they used to be here. Everything is…"

"Normal," she finished his sentence. "That's the problem. Everything is _normal_."

"Maybe normal isn't that bad."

Beth side-eyed him to see that not even Abraham believed his own words. "It's different out there," she said, motioning to the wall that was visible from their place on the porch. "We can't pretend that it's not like that, even in here. We can't feel too safe. Bad things happen then."

"You're different than before."

"What?" she asked, his comment taking her off guard. "You don't know me. The first time you met me was two days ago."

"I've heard about you though," Abraham explained. "Rosita talked a lot with Glenn after the hospital, and she likes to talk so Rosita then relayed all the information back to me. That girl sure has a mouth on her. But, you know what? I listen. Listen to it all because she feels the need to tell me things. And you know what else? You're not the same girl you were beforehand. Not the same sweet farm girl. That hospital changed you. Made you different."

Beth pushed her shoulders back, standing up taller. He wasn't telling her anything new. She already knew this about herself. Part of her was colder, harder, than before. But she knew who she was deep down and she was still the Beth who believed in good people and sang when she wanted to.

"It did," she agreed. "Maybe for the better."

"Of course it's for the better. Gotta be strong to live in this world now. You made it didn't you?"

_I am strong._

After some silence Abraham opened another bottle of beer, the sound of the cap opening alerting her. She glanced over again and rolled her eyes. "Do you have a tally on how many you've had so far?"

"Place your bet."

Beth thought about it for a moment. "Five."

"Close," Abraham smiled. "Six."

"That's a lot," she said. "You should cool it on the alcohol before you have too much and start dancing in there."

Abraham let out a real bark of laughter, and nodded back to the porch door. "That party would benefit from me dancing in there. Just you wait until I sing. Need you to harmonize with me."

They both laughed, and she would admit that it was nice to share something like that. Laughed at their ridiculousness and the whole situation. But all in all, Beth took and gamble and thought that Abraham probably had a very nice voice.

"But this here," he declared, holding up the beer like it was a precious gem, "this is for you. You'll need it more than me."

"I don't ever drink."

False. She had moonshine with Daryl, but that was her own secret, their secret.

"Never too late to start," he mumbled and then rested the bottle down on the railing within Beth's reach.

Abraham left after that, went back inside with the others, back to Rosita. Beth was grateful once the door closed again and the silence resumed. She rubbed at her head for a moment, accidently brushing over were the bullet wound was. Beth them let her finger outline the scar on her cheek, the staples finally out and a red line remaining. She really didn't care that much about them. Just something that was there.

But still, the whole situation angered her. Her stupidity, mostly. Why she had done what she had done, she didn't even know anymore. She had been irrational. The sound of the gun going off replayed in her mind every day and she had used that to motivate her to find her family, tracking them down. And it worked, in the end, she was there with them, yet she isolated herself onto the porch _away _from them.

Something was off, and Beth knew that it was probably because of Daryl that she wasn't happy. All she wanted was to be around him, talk things through with him and find out where the hell they were exactly on the relationship spectrum. But he had vanished from her sight as soon as she came back and hugged him after seeing him for the first time since the hospital hallway.

She was tired of trying to be normal for the night. Enough was enough and Beth seriously contemplated hoping over the fence and into the garden to be able to get out of there without more interaction with the others, new people or her family included in that.

But she chose the least of wise decisions and picked up the beer Abraham had left, already hating the smell of it. But she drank it down anyways, and after a little while had gone by and still no sign of Daryl being around, she went back inside to find more alcohol like Abraham and Rosita had resorted to doing. After all, the last time she drank, she felt much better about her situation, so that was what she used to feel better about him decision.

—

She was out wandering the streets of Alexandria, stumbling a bit here and there, mind glazed over. Well, it was more of a bounce than a stumble because she was more of a graceful drunk. She did a few half twirls as she walked about, the silky fabric of her dress feeling nice against her bare legs.

Beth somehow ended up walking back to the party, doing a complete circle around the empty streets. She hadn't realized that she had done it, but the noise of the people inside let her know that she was back.

She sighed, annoyed that she had found her way back to the place she had attempted to get away from.

But then she saw him.

Daryl was standing with his back facing her, looking on at Deanna's house. He was contemplating it, thinking about venturing in. She watched him too, watched his stance as he turned and began to walk away. And that was alright. He had made an attempt, and that was all anyone could ask for.

She smiled because he was _trying_ and it made her want to do the exact same.

The alcohol made her brave so she briskly shuffled her feet forward to catch up with him. "Daryl," she said his name.

He stopped abruptly and turned around to meet her eyes. She also stopped walking momentarily, only because he look he gave her was something she had never seen before. His eyes glazed over her, the dress, her bare legs, her hair that was down and freshly washed, the hint of makeup Maggie put on her. He took it all in with one glance but said nothing.

"You've been avoiding me," she accused him of, feeling a bit of a sting from that fact. It was true though and they both knew it. "Why?"

He didn't try to deny it, just dropped his eyes to the pavement and looked at the house he lived in down the street. She was in the house with Maggie right next door and the distance had left her unsettled. But there would be no quick getaway for him, not now, not when she needed an answer to her question.

"Been busy."

She cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. "_Bullshit_."

He smirked then, a familiar smirk to her because she had seen it numerous times in their travels together. "I know it is."

"Then why?" she whispered.

He took in a breath and started to walk, motioning for her to come too, which she did. They fell in step with each other easily, without even thinking about it. "It's just me."

"You?"

"Yeah. Me bein' an idiot."

Beth made a face. "Not gonna argue with that," she proclaimed, staring up at the clear sky to look at the stars, and saw there was not a cloud in sight. Daryl noticed and glanced over at her again while walking, able to not keep track of where he was going and not be worried of tripping like Beth would be. She quickly shot her eyes back at him to see the blue color of his eyes remaining on her as Daryl's gaze lingered. "You're staring," she pointed out.

"You look…" Daryl struggled to find what he wanted to say and she noticed the look on his face, like he hadn't meant to start to say the thought in his mind. "You look nice tonight."

Beth smiled at the compliment. "Thanks, Daryl."

He then diverted from the path and sat down at a large rock that was in front of someone's property, house lights out, but small solar lights illuminated the pathway to the front door. Daryl's elbows went onto his thighs to rest them there once his hands found a way towards one another so he could pick at his fingernails, head down. It became clear to Beth that Daryl wanted to talk but just didn't know where to start or what to say. Or maybe he wasn't ready to address what it was that was on his mind, the reason he was avoiding her.

Her own thoughts shifted and Beth looked at the new clothes Daryl had on and how clean his skin was. She hadn't seen him this put together on any other occasion. He was always dirty and always uncaring about it, which Beth didn't mind. Part of her preferred him on the dirtier side of the spectrum.

The mixture of alcohol she had was way stronger than the moonshine she had with Daryl and she was brutally honest when drunk. "You good too," Beth claimed, gazing at Daryl as he sat there. "_So _good."

He looked up at her, eyes narrowing to inspect her. "You been drinkin'?"

It wasn't even a question. He knew that she had been already.

"I was," she laughed, amused that this was actually happening. Her inner thoughts were about to spill out and she couldn't do anything to stop them. "But that has nothing to do with me wanting you."

Wrong thing to say.

Wrong time.

But she wasn't bothered by it. She wanted him to know.

Daryl carefully examined her, looking her up and down again in a way that made her start to fiddle around with the material of her dress, needing to have her hands occupied. "Maybe you should get some sleep."

Beth twirled around in the street and started to walk back to the house she was staying in, trying to make it into a home, but for now, it remained as just a house. "Maybe you should come too. Come sleep with me," she countered, smiling, raising an eyebrow at him as she turned to walk backwards. It was an innuendo not even Daryl would be able to see past.

Daryl chuckled, and it was the first time he had in some time. It made Beth smile at him even though he had stopped looking at her as he got up off the rock to join her walking towards the house. "We need to get you some water."

"Drink lots of water," she cooed, remembering what he had told her in the moonshine shack they had burned down. Beth giggled to herself. "Good memories."

"Really?" he questioned her back, disbelief in his voice.

"Arguing outside was a better one. Remember? When you grabbed me and tried to make me shoot the crossbow for the first time and use that walker as target practice?"

Daryl snorted. "Sorry 'bout that."

"Don't be sorry."

Beth sighed as she ran down the rest of the street, five houses down, and up to the porch of her house enthusiastically. The alcohol was really hitting her hard by that point, and she felt like she was in a happy daze. After all, she _was _a happy drunk. Daryl had said so himself.

Beth tried the doorknob but it didn't budge. "I don't have a key," she realized, turning back around to see Daryl had caught up with her, standing on the grass. Beth tried the knob again with the same results, thinking to herself that her family must be the only ones in Alexandria who actually locked their doors. Beth turned back around to see Daryl. "Your place?"

Daryl rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah, come on."

Beth hopped down off the porch, only then realizing she wasn't wearing any shoes when the grass blades felt soft on the bottom of her feet. Where the shoes had gone to exactly, she couldn't be sure, but she knew for certain that she had worn black flats to the party.

Oh well.

They got into the house with no trouble, and Beth wandered in, feeling the wall as she went. It wasn't the first time she had been in the house before, Carol had brought her inside once, but everything seemed different now that she was alone with Daryl in a house where the lights were dimmed down and a few candles were lit along the table near the entryway.

She can't help but think that there was a romantic feel to the atmosphere.

Just like the funeral home.

"Come 'ere."

Beth followed Daryl into the kitchen and she flicked on the large silver faucet that was surrounded by fancy marble countertops, watched the stream of water in awe for a second or two, then switched it off. She repeated that a few times to make sure that there was actually water there, up until Daryl approached her and grabbed her a glass to fill it up with the water, bubbles filling the glass until they settled down and the glass was clear again. "Here, drink this. It'll help."

"I read that nothing can make you less drunk," she claimed, recalling a magazine she had read when she came across it many, many months ago back at the prison. "Besides, I'm only buzzed. Not a big deal. You've seen me like this before."

"Yeah, yeah," he acknowledged, handing over the water. "Now drink up."

She did what he asked to make him feel better and gulped down the glass of water in under a minute, setting the empty glass down onto the countertops. "Why are you ignoring me?" she asked one more time, pushing him to reveal his reason, letting her voice tell him how upset she was about not being close to him anymore.

He gave her a blank look and Beth had enough. "You're so distant. I can't stand it! Please, if I did something wrong then tell me. I want to fix it."

Daryl began to bite at his nails, startled, but not surprised by the outburst. "You didn't do nothing wrong."

She folded her arms in protest and leaned her back against a tall cabinet across from her so she could fully face Daryl. "Tell me why you're avoiding me and I'll drop it. Please, Daryl, it's driving me crazy. I need to know."

"Because I can't help how I feel," he openly admitted, still biting his nails and looking at the ground, at the safety spot rather than looking for a reaction from her.

Beth's arms dropped and her softer side reemerged. His confession, somehow, some way, had made her feel like her old self again, like nothing had happened since the funeral home. Like she was still the girl outside the moonshine shack burning it down in some sort of therapeutic act of defiance for her traveling companion, her friend, her…Daryl.

_Because I can't help how I feel._

"Oh."

So it was true. What she had felt all this time was real and reciprocated.

The look he gave her next was similar to the one he flashed her way at the funeral home right before the dog and the walkers were at the door. The lightening hit his face the right way, mysterious eyes hooded by choppy pieces of dark hair glancing at her with fear in them, fear of rejection, fear of losing her again. He had laid his feelings out on the table to the best of his ability and was letting Beth do the rest, letting her steer the direction this would go in.

She should have said something in reply, but she couldn't contain it anymore. Beth pushed off the cabinet with force and sent herself propelling forward until she was against Daryl, both hands grabbing at him, and she planted a kiss right on his lips.

It was different than she had imagined. Daryl was more gentle with her, his hand coming up so his fingers rested lightly on her forearm as one of her hands was on the side of his neck and the other was on his jaw.

Their lips pulled away slightly from each other but they both remained standing close, an inch from one another.

"Beth," he drew out the syllables. Her eyes fluttered closed at the sound of her name. "You're drunk."

Funny. She didn't feel like it anymore.

She mustered up the ability to shake her head and then Beth went to kiss him again but he prevented her by turning his head at the last second, repeating her name. He thought she was doing this because of the liquor, but that wasn't why. She had thought about this while she had been away from him, thought about it a lot during the night when her mind was blank and something needed to fill up the space of loneliness.

Daryl was always there. He had been there to comfort her while she was alone and in need to some company.

"Okay," she backed down, realizing that Daryl would feel like he was taking advantage of her drunk state, and she didn't want him to feel that.

They stood there close together, for a few more beats, and Beth watched at Daryl's chest rose with every breath he took. She felt how the fingers on her forearm slid down to her side and pulled her in, Beth getting the message, and she pressed into him, arms wrapping around his waist as she tucked her head against his chest.

"I missed you," she whispered, then tilted her head up to look at him. "A lot."

Daryl looked apologetic, even though he had no reason to. "Come on, you know there wasn't a damn day that I didn't think about you." He paused and stopped himself from saying more. "Now, let's get you to bed."

She did feel quite tired all of a sudden, the activities of the day and the night all weighing heavy on her, plus the mixture of that with the alcohol. She wanted to sleep, but she also wanted to stay up with Daryl and tell him everything about her journey to get to Alexandria, her feelings, talk about the past, and the future.

_Their_ future.

But it was too late and Beth felt that it would be alright to wait for another day, a fresh morning, a fresh start. After all, a fresh start was really what everyone needed.

So Beth once again followed Daryl, something she was used to by now, following him was second nature. Up the stairs with the wooden floorboards and into a very dark room that she assumed is an extra guest bedroom with the dark curtains across the window. Beth was already climbing into the bed when she heard Daryl again.

"Hey," he whispered, voice low. "I'm glad you're back. Didn't know what to do without you."

Beth smiled into the pillow, pulling up the sheets. She slipped into sleep after that, what he said next went unheard to her, but it sounded something vaguely similar to _I won't ever lose you again_.

—

A bright light was hitting her, warm on her face as it streamed through the then open curtains, when Beth finally came out of a long sleep. She rubbed her eyes and then her head, feeling a pounding sensation going on. Never again would she drink, she promised herself that.

When she moved around, she felt that she was still in her dress from last night, but was also in unfamiliar sheets. Beth brushed her hand against jet black sheets, nice cotton ones that smelled nice. But the smell was recognizable to her so she inhaled deeply to make sure she was right, and she was because the smell of Daryl caught her attention. It was very distinct. She could spot it anywhere.

It was his room, his bed, that she was in and not a guest bedroom.

Beth blinked a few times and let her eyes travel around the one side of the room, which had been untouched for the most part. Pictures that had been on the walls were removed and on the floor so that the walls remained a bare white with the outline of what was once a square frame, and a few clothing items were in a ball on the floor. Other than that, it was fairly plain.

Beth twisted around and saw Daryl sitting in the corner in a chair, watching her, waiting for her to wake up. "Have you been there this whole time?"

He nodded and offered a small smile. "All night."

"Why?"

"Wanted to make sure you weren't gonna throw up and choke to death."

Beth let her head fall back onto the pillow and huffed. "I didn't drink _that _much."

"Could have fooled me."

Beth thought back to the night before, trying to actually remember how much she drank there on the porch and then back inside at the party after that. But one thing other than that came to mind, and she remembered what all happened last night, starting to laugh uncontrollably until it hurt her stomach.

Daryl remained where he was, watching her closely."What's so funny?"

"Me!" she choked out and threw off her covers to sit up in bed, legs dangling off the side of the bed. "I was coming onto you last night, wasn't I?"

A hint of a smirk fell upon Daryl's face. "Just a little bit."

She rolled her eyes. "It was more than that."

"Wasn't that bad."

She perked up. "No?"

Daryl looked up at her. He got out of the chair next to pick up the crossbow, opening up the door to his room so that the following destination was the hallway with the smooth hardwood floors that looked like they had just been shined. "Deanna's got a job for you today," he said, making a quick exit strategy. "We should get going over there soon. I'll go get you an aspirin for your head. You'll need it."

He was gone after that, heading down the hall, light on his feet because she could barely hear the sound of his boots. Beth had watched as he left, the previous conversation replaying in her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

There are times when she just wanted to lock herself in her room with no one in the house and just scream, let it all out, expel all the bad shit she went through in the past couple of years out into the universe. She wanted to banish it from her mind and erase it from her memory. But, really, would that even do any good?

Then there are times that she wanted to break down and cry until no more tears were left in her, let herself be sad for the first time in a long time.

Sometimes she wanted to yell at Maggie and take out all her frustration of her not thinking she was never alive in the first place and looked for Glenn instead.

Sometimes she wanted to say to hell with it all and move on, forget the past and the mountain of pain that had built up.

It was awful, _god_, it was awful.

But she was still there, breathing, and that was more than she thought she was going to get after Grady. But she didn't have time to process _those _memories, not that day.

With one foot out the door, Beth noticed how the air felt around her once the door shut and the wreath hanging on the door made of fake flowers, berries, and pinecones for autumn bounced because of the force she used to close the heavy door. It had been placed there my Jessie, or at least she thought so. Jessie was the only one around the place that was creative enough to make something so well put together with a creative hint. Something that belonged in the life before, yet turned up again in Alexandria on their door one day.

Alexandria. The place that seemed to have escaped the apocalypse entirely.

Sometimes she didn't think she believed it.

And sometimes it didn't matter. She was there. Her family was there. They were safe, for now. The seemingly anomaly of what was Alexandria would forever put her in disbelief.

The evening had turned cool with a small breeze blowing through the streets, tumbling leaves across the ground as autumn began to transition into winter. The weather was much different in Virginia than in Georgia. The air itself felt different. But she was one to talk. Everything felt different to her, ever since _the accident_ as people liked to call it, even her own family. She preferred to just say _the time she was shot point blank in the head_. Seriously, no need to walk around on eggshells with terminology. Call it what it actually was. She wasn't afraid to hear the truth.

But the others were and it was frustrating. But luckily for her, they all stayed busy in their own way. Deanna had her starting to work with the younger children during the weekdays. That was right,_ weekdays._ They actually knew the time and the day there, which was foreign to her. Keeping track like that had evolved into such a strange idea. But anyways, her role was to help out keeping the younger ones occupied with learning and she was okay with that. Old Beth would have liked it better, but the newer version of herself was also enjoying it too. It was a good distraction.

"Hey, there, Beth," Jessie greeted, coming around the corner of the house. Her kind smile was shy but also nice to see. She held up a woven basket filled with vegetables spilling over the sides, food that Beth saw as a luxury. "I'm just here to drop these off. We have a lot of corn this season and this is just about the last of it. It's really good. I've been adding it to everything."

She walked over and handed over the basket, which Beth took in her arms. The colorful array made her think of the vegetables her family used to grow, especially in the small garden out back of the house that Maggie, Shawn, and her had created when they were all very little. It was a fond memory, yet one that was very distant. The death of her father came over her again. To be honest, she had never really dealt with it. And so much had happened since then that the thought of dealing with it was overwhelming.

"I was wondering—" Jessie started, running her hand over the top part of her ponytail. Beth saw how her face changed, like she had just realized she was stepping over boundaries. She backed out at the last second. "Nevermind."

"No," Beth said, a little more demanding that she initially wanted to sound like. "You can tell me. What is it?"

Jessie pushed her lips together and contemplated what she would say next. "I was just going to say that if you ever need to talk about anything," she began, then lifted her shoulders up before dropping them back down, "I'm here. It might not be much help but I've learned over the years that it's way better to talk about things you don't really want to than to keep them locked up."

There was a double meaning behind it, she was almost positive of that. But Jessie said nothing more and Beth didn't press her to.

"Thanks," Beth said back, appreciative for the offer being extended to her. "I'll be around if I ever need that. Or _when_ I need that."

Jessie took that as a success and nodded. She pointed down the street. "Well, I'm going to head back. My boys are probably beginning to get hungry. And let me tell you, teenage boys being hungry spells trouble in my house."

She gave a fleeting smile as Jessie walked away. Beth set the vegetables back inside the house by the door for someone else to pick up on their way in and then went about her day.

—

She was headed back from picking some flowers that were still alive from around the inside of the wall since Eric and Aaron had so kindly asked her over for dinner that night. With a bundle of what was probably the last of the Heleniums in her hand, colors of deep red and yellow, Beth smoothed out her top after realizing there was flecks of dirt on it.

The streetlamps turned on right as she got to Aaron and Eric's house. It was really beautiful, especially the landscaping. There was a certain charm to the house and Beth thought that it was the best house on the street.

"There you are," Aaron's voice said, startling her from behind as she had gotten distracted by staring at the yellow and black railroad crossing sign on the porch. Aaron immediately noticed the mistake of sneaking up behind her as Beth jerked away and put up his hands. "Sorry. I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that. I wasn't thinking."

She let out a relieved breath, seeing it was just him, and placed her other hand over her heart in order to tell it to stop racing.

One thing that didn't leave Beth was how she was still so surprised by how normal he looked, how normal all the residents of Alexandria looked compared to her own family, who seemed much more wild and untamed. Aaron's dark green checkered shirt made her smile though because the faint memory of Karen complaining about how much she disliked checkered patterned shirts popped into her head from when they were back at the prison. Beth hoped Karen was a peace somewhere. Maybe she was with Tyreese. Maybe she was smiling with Beth about Aaron's ridiculous shirt.

"No worries." She handed over the flowers. "These are for you as a thank you for having me. I know wine would probably be more acceptable but I don't currently have the resources to snag a bottle."

He appreciated the humor. "Flowers will go perfectly on the table. Eric likes having fresh ones in the house. He hoards plants too, you'll see that once you're inside. Apparently they are good for the air in the house." Aaron held up his hands again, a funny smile appearing. "But in terms of dinner, don't get too excited. It's just pasta. Nothing too fancy. But, the sauce is made from scratch and I really hope you like garlic."

"Sounds amazing," she replied honestly. "Home cooked meals of any kind have been pretty rare in the past few years, at least for us it has."

He signaled for her to start walking with him. "Come on inside. I'll show you around. But beware, we've got a lot of odd things as decorations. Not the usual thing you see."

They crossed over the grass and started up the front porch. Beth was following behind Aaron when she turned her head to look down the street illuminated by the streetlamps working off of solar power. In the distance, she spotted Maggie going into Deanna's house with a handful of papers and then disappearing inside. It made her stop, placing her hand onto the railing, which did not go unnoticed.

"Do you think it'll ever go back to normal?" she asked Aaron, still looking down the empty street.

He came back to the edge of the brick steps and looked out, shoving his hands into his pockets. Although he didn't know what she was directly referring to, he still answered her question. "I think everything has a way for finding a balance. A new normal."

Beth brushed some hair out of her face and then proceeded to plant herself on the top step so that she was facing parallel to the street and her back was supported by the beam behind her, stretching her legs out in front of her and resting her hands on her lap. Aaron sensed that something was off and sat down on the opposite side of her.

After a moment, she broke the silence. "Do you know the story about what happened after the prison?"

"I've heard bits and pieces but not all of it."

"Maggie thought I was dead," Beth let out with an added small laugh at the end. "Focused all her energy into finding Glenn. That's what Sasha had told me. She wasn't trying to be mean or anythin' like that, I think she just wanted get back up to the tower to be lookout and wasn't watchin' what she was saying. That's why she was so truthful. But… I guess I don't blame Maggie," Beth finally admitted to, even though she still felt the sting of it. "I can't blame her for going for Glenn instead of me. She loves him. He is the only man she's ever loved, actually."

"Romantic love makes people do crazy things. Makes them not think straight."

"She didn't think I was strong enough to make it," Beth whispered out. "She probably thought I was eaten alive back at the prison during the attack."

Aaron's eyes turned sympathetic. He brought his hands together, ready to freely give out some wisdom. "This might not be my place," he began, shaking his head slightly, like he wasn't sure if he was about step into territory he didn't belong in. "But I feel as if in this world we don't have the option of staying mad at people who have wronged us. When your sister got here…" He took a few seconds to gather his thoughts, making Beth sit up further, intrigued. "When she got here, she looked so _dead_. Like she was another lifeless body wandering around without a purpose. She was losing herself to the grief, I could see that quite clearly."

Beth paused and thought about the situation more deeply. The rift between Maggie and her was evident, but for the first time she saw the other side of it, why Maggie seemed to make an effort of avoiding Beth for most of the day as if she were some kind of diseased animal wandering around. Maggie felt awful for not only looking for Glenn and forgetting about Beth the first time, but also felt as if she had betrayed Beth for leaving her _supposedly _dead body in the trunk of a car in Atlanta.

Twice Maggie had left her behind, and twice Beth had beat the odds and pulled through.

Something was keeping her here, alive, even when it seemed her life was taken from her. And that something might just be a _someone_, and that someone might just happen to own a crossbow.

"Then when you arrived here in one piece after what had happened or what they thought had happened, she was relieved," Aaron continued. "But also, she felt enormous guilt. I may have overheard her saying to Deanna that she believed she was a terrible sister and didn't deserve your forgiveness."

"I thought she was a terrible sister too." Beth crossed her ankles and shifted her gaze upward to the sky. "Not anymore though," she sighed, coming to terms with it all. "I think we just need to move on. I don't have the energy to be mad. She's the only blood family I have left."

When Beth looked back over, Aaron smiled. "You should tell her that."

She nodded slowly. "Tomorrow I will. I'll give her one more day to feel shitty about herself."

Aaron laughed and shook his head. "_Women_," he commented to himself.

She shot him a look. "Be glad you don't live with one."

"Not yet," he mumbled to himself. She squinted her eyes at him but didn't ask about what he meant, she only assumed it was because they would eventually want to raise a family there in Alexandria.

"But just so you know, I do value your opinion," Beth acknowledged, and she really did. Aaron was one of the very few who had treated her more normally since arriving in Alexandria, like she wasn't the girl who got shot in the head and turned up in Alexandria looking like she some sort of savage. Again, she went through a whole lot of shit to get to the safe-zone, stuff she didn't feel like thinking about ever again. "Thanks for telling me all that stuff about Maggie. No one really talks about what happened while I was gone. They're kind of afraid to, I think. Like I'm too fragile to handle it."

"I'd argue you're one of the least fragile people here."

"I'd agree with that," she mumbled, turning her head to watch an old couple stroll down the sidewalk, hand in hand as the darkness spread through Alexandria. She thought it was nice, that they were together, old, having lived their lives the way they wanted to before the apocalypse hit and the world was handed over to the dead. She was slightly jealous even, that she didn't get the option to go and live the way she wanted, not fearing for her life all the time, to find someone and get old and gray with them. But the jealously faded as fast as it arrived.

Aaron must have seen her staring. "That's Mr. and Mrs. Harrison. Married sixty-five years."

"That's beautiful," Beth said. "I wish I had gotten the chance…"

She trailed off and didn't continue, but he picked up on what she was saying. "Maybe you still do."

She couldn't stop the sarcastic chuckle that found its way to the surface. "My options are pretty slim nowadays, don't you think? Besides, who thinks of marriage in a world like this?"

Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement across the way. Turning to see who it was, Daryl was walking along the pavement near the sidewalk, crossbow on his back, and some kind of animal dangling down from where it was clasped in his hand. He still hadn't given the hunting up, despite the food pantry in Alexandria that was more than stocked. Beth knew it was because it had been so much a part of him all the years, specifically in the last few, that he couldn't give that part of his identity up. It was who he was, who he became.

Aaron saw Daryl walking along too, even though Daryl didn't bother to look over to see the two sitting on the porch. "I wouldn't say those chances are _that _slim," Aaron half-smiled, looking Daryl's way, and the back onto the porch, where he started to fiddle with a stray piece of wood, holding back an even wider grin.

Beth let her head drift back over to focus on Aaron so he could see her roll her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. He would never agree to that."

"Never say never."

Beth crossed her arms over her chest. "I _am_ saying never."

Aaron was fast to explain. "I'm pretty observant. I can see the way he looks at you."

"Like a girl returned from the dead."

"No," Aaron dismissed, serious. "Like the light walked back into his life and he can breathe for the first time in a while."

She didn't have a quick or snarky response to that so Beth kept quiet, bringing her legs up so she could cross her arms over her knees and rest her chin on them. Aaron's statement was a lot to take in at once.

"Do you love him?" he asked.

If it were anyone else she probably wouldn't have answered, but it was Aaron and the two of them were starting a great friendship. He was trustworthy enough. "I think so, yes," she admitted to. "I've never been in love so I'm sure what it feels like exactly. That's why I wasn't sure."

"I think he feels the same."

_Maybe_, she thought, _maybe_.

"I think Daryl is confused," she explained right away. "One night he kisses me and the next he's nowhere to be found."

Aaron didn't even seem surprised by the revelation of the kiss, the _drunk _kiss on her part, that had happened a few nights ago and had gone untalked about ever since. Daryl had disappeared on her since that night and she would only catch glimpses of him here and there.

"Would you expect any different of him?" he questioned her, eyebrows furrowing, trying to see how well Beth understood Daryl's personality.

She thought about it. "I guess not," she said. "That's just how he works."

"He needs time to process it all," Aaron assured her, getting up off the porch and headed towards the door. "Come on in. I have a feeling that the pasta sauce Eric is trying to make might need my help with the seasoning. He either adds too much or too little. He's a pain like that."

Aaron extended a hand to help her up and Beth threw a glance over her shoulder before going inside, just to see if Daryl was still out there, but he was gone.

_**A/N: The desire to write this chapter came out of nowhere. I was originally going to wait to start writing for this fic again but inspiration decided to hit me now instead. Hopefully the next chapter will be up within a reasonable time-frame but no promises! :) **_


	3. Chapter 3

"_Will you consider it?"_

Well, she was.

The question Eric proposed was wandering around in her mind and she really was considering it at this point. It was the offer to move in with Eric and Aaron instead of living in the house across the way with Maggie, Glenn, Abraham, Rosita, Tara, and Eugene. All Eric and Aaron were doing was trying to do give her some separation from the rest and she was realizing that was what she needed, at least for a little while she got her head straight and worked through everything.

Glenn wasn't quite sure how to act around her anymore or what to say.

Rosita asked too many questions.

Eugene liked to stare at her scars and it was beginning to make her want to throw a knife at him, to be completely honest. Either that or he flirted way too much…and then that made her want to throw knives.

And it wouldn't be the first time she stabbed someone with a knife, but that was another story, the haunting one from her journey on the way to Alexandria.

So the separating herself made sense, at least she hoped. Her head wasn't entirely on right, not after everything that had happened. She had to get herself on the right path first before she started reconnecting with the family members that had left her behind. She had to connect back with herself before that could happen.

—

Night fell and Daryl dragged his way back to the house they were staying at. His hands were covered in blood from taking out the insides of that raccoon he caught earlier. And the squirrel. And the possum. They never had a chance and Daryl didn't feel bad about it one bit. It was one of the only ways he maintained feeling the slightest bit normal there in Alexandria, going back to the one thing he knew how to do well, which was hunting.

But he had gotten outside of the house, standing there on the lawn, and just looked at it for a good minute or so and decided he didn't want to go any further and that sitting there on the porch in the dark was a much better idea since no part of him really wanted to go inside. Not now. Not before. And not really anytime in the future either. So he planted himself on the top step and watched as no danger appeared and sorted through the animal parts he took back. For how long he was out there for, he had no clue. But then again, it would be looked down upon if he camped out on the porch all night, every night. So he reluctantly sighed and scooped up the parts of the animal he probably wouldn't find a use for and chucked them into the lame garbage can at the end of the yard.

He didn't get it, the suburban living. It really fucked with him. But he kept his mouth shut for the most part and ignored his thoughts for the benefit of the group since they were the ones who were back in a place that was familiar, that kind of living.

They had been so weak from travelling, from the lack of food and water with little to no shelter that it made some sort of sense to stay. They had been weak from so much, actually. Weak from the constant fear of a herd of walkers coming through and making a lunch out of them, tearing their insides out during a feast. Weak from all the killing of living people who had turned down a dark path. Weak from pushing away the desire to give up hope. Weak from the misery brought down on him because he watched Beth get shot and ripped away from him as soon as he had let himself feel relieved for getting her back and safe.

No.

_No._

He couldn't think about it.

It hurt too much, even then when she was walking around Alexandria, living, breathing. The image of the blood flying back at him and her body dropping her to the floor in a pool of red was burned into his brain and would always haunt him no matter what.

No.

He wouldn't let himself think about that day, that second in time where his world actually ended and time seemed to slow down to a pace that would forcibly make him suffer. Thinking he had lost her was easily the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Nothing else could compare.

And now he got a bit lost about what to do or what to feel now that his everyday nightmare was over and Beth was there with him. Part of him thought it was still a dream but the majority of his brain knew it was reality. Beth was alive and she was there and he would do absolutely everything to keep it that way, which is why he kept his distance. Well, part of it at least. He was mostly just afraid to get close again.

Story of his fucking life, though. Never wanted to get close to anyone. Then _she _happened and he let her in and she saw him for who he was which was probably the scariest thing of all, to be that vulnerable. He let her in and she didn't judge him, not once. _He let her in._ And just as he got her back she was taken away again. Maybe it was the universe telling him something, smacking him right in the face before ripping out his heart and pushing him back down in his place. Maybe it was karma for all the bad stuff he had done in the past, or had let happen. Now he wasn't allowed to care for Beth Greene in the way that he knew he wanted to, couldn't have those feelings for her, couldn't have that nice warm sense of having someone there.

He fucking loved that girl, dammit, and he couldn't. Just couldn't.

Now he was afraid that if he got close again she would be taken from him, like he was the cause of it all. Distance was better. Distance was safe for her, she could stay alive that way. And he would much rather her be alive and not with him than dead and him be left behind to relive the memories that tortured him.

So he told himself he would shove all the desires back down and place them into a corner of himself so they would be contained. He couldn't risk acting on them, not anymore. He got one kiss out of it, lips soft and warm, and yes, he had wanted so badly to give in and pick up where they left off. There had been a lot more that Daryl wanted to do to her that night other than kiss her, but he stopped himself. She was drunk, he was broken. Only thing now was that Beth was sober, but Daryl was still the same broken mess that he was since the hospital.

The same mess he had been his whole life.

Daryl shook his head to get the thoughts out. It didn't help but he'd like to think that maybe one day he would be able to shake the thoughts and memories away.

The house was empty upon entering it. It was eerie to him, the way he would walk in, close the front door, and everything would be so silent that he could hear a pin drop on the pristine floors down the hall. But that wasn't the eerie part, that was the whole coming back to an actual nice house, one that had beautiful pictures on the wall and a full kitchen, beds to sleep in with high thread count sheets, and the basics like running water that was clean.

Got him every time. How they found this place, how it even stayed together without people coming along and wanting to take it for themselves. It was a mystery.

No lights were left on and he didn't bother to flick the light switch, uncaring about walking through the dark and up the stairs. The floorboards creaked slightly on the top step of the second floor when he got there, which was probably the only thing wrong with the house all together.

He knew where to go once on the next floor, which room had been designated as his, but he had never stayed longer than a minute in there before. Opening it up, Daryl went for the bathroom that was attached to his room, one he had all to himself, another luxury he never had before. He figured he would make good use of it that night since maybe it would be wrong to mess up everything he touched with his bloody and dirt covered hands so he should really wash them off and clean himself up a little. Realizing the light inside was on the dimmer and was at the lowest setting, he figured that someone must have left him more fresh towels again, even though last time they had gone unused.

Daryl reached for the door and went in a few steps. His mistake. But Daryl always somehow ended up in an awkward situation so he should have been more prepared.

There before him was Beth.

In the bathtub.

In _his _bathtub.

Naked.

Daryl was stunned for the first time in his life. Even though he couldn't actually see anything since Beth had her back against the wall of the white bathtub with her legs up so they were pressed against her chest and that way she could hold onto her legs, wrapping her arms around them, and rest her chin on the space in between her knees, there was still so much skin that he had never seen before that he froze up for a good few seconds. And those seconds consisted of him blatantly staring at her as Beth's eyes stared back at him with not much of her own surprise showing through, blinking only a couple of times, waiting.

Apparently the intrusion hadn't startled her as much as it had startled him because he was really fucking thrown off base with this one.

Daryl then looked away as he dropped his gaze, cursing himself because more images of her would now be floating around in his mind late at night, flooding in without control and making him want things he couldn't have. Daryl tried to back out of the bathroom quickly, only to have his crossbow hit the doorframe, causing a loud noise and cutting a slash into the white wood. He quickly pulled it away before he did more damage, only to bang his side, right on his rib, on the silver doorknob because the door had swung back quietly without his knowledge and he had jerked back to get the crossbow away from the frame. And damn, that fucking doorknob hurt so bad he nearly felt like ripping it right off.

But that would look bad.

That would make him look wild and out of control.

And it was only a doorknob.

Meanwhile, Beth had been quiet, watching as it all played out in front of her, watching him turn into an awkward mess due to the knowledge of her nakedness in the tub and how he had managed to be so clumsy. "Sorry," he muttered her way, feeling bad that he not only walked in on Beth but he also interrupted her quiet time alone, despite her being in his bathroom.

"Stay," she asked, perking up a bit, voice higher than usual. When Daryl just stood there being torn on what to do she added, "Please."

_No. Don't do it._

He shouldn't. It would be wrong. So wrong. But Beth picked up her head and was staring up at him with these eyes that were practically begging him to stay there with her and they were too hard to ignore. Daryl shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, undecided, because _shit _his mind didn't work right around her. He knew what he should do but then there was the devil on his shoulder telling him not to turn down the invitation.

Fuck it, he went with.

Daryl didn't have the strength to deal with his inner conflicts anymore than he already had that day.

Sighing, mainly to himself about giving in so easily, Daryl grabbed that same doorknob that screwed his side up moments before and slowly moved the door until it shut, where he released the knob. Since he was still facing the closed door, Daryl leaned to set the crossbow down onto the tile floor closest to the sink and got down also, avoiding looking at Beth, but he was also avoiding looking into the mirror since he was afraid of seeing himself, as if it was going to show him exactly what he was doing wrong, showing the real him and his mistakes.

There was silence as he sat with his back up against the wall, eyes fixated on the crossbow in front of him that he had carried with him for so long, since back at the prison.

The prison.

The kind of life that they had all lost there. The security. The community. He had hated it so much to begin with, being in there all trapped like animals, but had then grown fond of the place and the opportunity it presented. But then there was the actual innocent human lives that they had lost there among the pit of death and destruction.

Another thing he didn't want to think about.

"You're filthy," she commented, staring him down while she analyzed, bringing him out of the dark hole of thoughts he had fallen into so many times over. "Were you hunting today? There's blood under your nails."

He nodded to her, for the first time feeling disgusting from all the dirt packed on his skin and the animal blood that had dried under his unclipped nails. "Wasn't the only one outside the gate today," he mentioned, referring to how she had been up to something earlier. He had seen the dirt on the side of the tub she had scrubbed off and there was too much for it to be from just walking around the town. He'd like to inspect for any damages done, to make sure there were no cuts or fresh bruises on her to make sure all was well, but that was out of the question considering the situation he had stumbled into. Daryl shifted his eyes in her direction for a second before straightening his head back to the front, where his eyes belonged. "How did you sneak out?" he questioned her.

She didn't give anything up and he didn't really expect her to. "Doesn't matter how I got out. I just did. It was the only way to be alone."

"When?"

"Earlier," she replied quickly, nothing too specific, which made him more and more curious, but mostly concerned since her safety was the most important thing to him.

"Where'd you go?" he questioned further, voice deep and raspy, waiting impatiently for an answer that would maybe tell him a little bit more information.

"Around."

"You ran into trouble," he said immediately after, intentionally not wording it as a question. He knew something had happened out there that day, probably an unexpected run in with a walker, he assumed, and that was why so much dirt was on her in the first place.

"I took care of it."

She had worded it as if it was something as simple as going out and getting groceries. _I took care of it._ Like it wasn't as if a flesh eating bastard was trying to get at her. And for some reason, just the casual tone she had used, that brought a bit of anger to the surface for him, and he snapped back, "Can't be doin' that, Beth. Can't be leaving and not tell anyone. Going alone ain't an option anymore. You tryin' to get yourself killed out there?"

Shit. He didn't mean to say that, not that last part.

A flood of regret hit him all at once.

"What do _you_ care?" she threw at him, the tone of anger sliding on through unexpectedly. He was half anticipating a plastic bottle of shampoo to be chucked his way, but when it didn't come, Daryl waited for the verbal assault instead, knowing he was deserving of it. "I walk around town and you ignore me. I come back here for everyone, for _you_. I kiss you, I throw myself at you, and then guess what happens…nothing. I get ignored like the goddamn plague." There was a pause and a sniffle but Daryl still didn't have the courage to look her in the eye and see how hurt she was so he kept his back straight and his head down like a dog who was in trouble, picking the blood out from under his nails and onto his lap as he accepted everything she threw his way. "I guess I'm still a dead girl to you, huh? Can't even bother to look at me when I'm five feet away."

Daryl understood where the sudden hostility was coming from, and he sure as hell felt bad about it, all of his actions and words, they all seemed so awful in retrospect. He hadn't treated her fairly, plain and simple. "You're mad," he acknowledged, still picking at his fingernails to avoid looking over at her still naked body in the bathtub. "I get it."

She sounded disbelieving when she asked, "Do you?"

Her tone said it was a rhetorical question, but he answered it anyways with a quiet, "Yes."

"Then stop avoiding me."

It was true, he had been avoiding her. Killed him inside to do it too, especially when every single fiber that made him who he was told him to go to her, to see her. Ignoring that feeling was the hardest thing he ever had to do. The conflict of wanting to be around her and the light she brought to him, but also being afraid to approach her was slowly tearing him to pieces. And he let it happen. Let himself get all fucked up from it all—his fucking feelings and his brain telling him not to even go there again. Because the universe knew that Daryl Dixon liked to put himself in bad situations where he felt pulled in every direction.

The universe also liked to let Daryl have something and then take it away.

Lucky fucking him.

Still, his thoughts travelled back to the funeral home and how nice it had been there. Quiet, he remembered, like it was out in the woods when he hunted. He remembered the candles all spread out and lit as they sat down to dinner and how Beth had smiled to herself as they sat down and she took out the pen and paper to write a thank you. He had felt so at home there with her, not something he had ever felt before. Suggesting they should stay there wasn't a mistake, his only mistake was letting his guard down and not even thinking to look out the damn window to see what was at the door.

It was his fault. He knew it.

And that was the worst part of it all—he could have prevented so much from happening.

He was the reason Beth was taken. He was the reason she was bruised and cut up when she was at the hospital. He was the reason she took a bullet to the head.

Daryl sighed, disgusted by his actions, and crossed his arms over his chest because he thought it might be the only thing to hold him together as all the guilt set in deep and tortured him once again. He told himself he wouldn't think about it and there he was doing just that.

Daryl's demons never quieted down.

How convenient.

And as he sat there on the floor of the bathroom with his boots flat up against the light brown cabinets in front of him that were holding up the sink, he tried to not let the emotion show along with desperately trying to not to look over and get another glance at the beautiful girl who was comfortable enough around him that she sat there in the tub naked a few feet away from him and didn't beat an eyelash about it. And it wasn't like he would be able to see _anything_ but that wasn't even the fucking point.

"Daryl?" she said his name, seeing his thoughts get the best of him.

She could always tell, he found out on their journey together, that even when he didn't want her to see the pain he was in, Beth could always pick up on it. Either he had gotten worse at hiding it or Beth was too attuned to his pattern of behavior.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Beth moving. Only then did he look over to see her submerge her body up to her shoulders in the water and then moved forward creating small waves, resting her cheek on the white bathtub edge. "Tell me," she encouraged, hand drifting over the side towards the floor to mess with a piece of tile that had come up, making him want to reach out and grab it and hold her hand in his like it was some sort of movie they were in and nice things like that could happen. He still did remember the way her hand felt in his from all the way back in the cemetery by the funeral home. Felt natural, like they were supposed to be that way.

"What's on your mind?"

"It's nothin'," he whispered back. Lying felt wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to confess the whole truth.

"Don't shut me out," Beth replied, though it sounded a lot more like a demand. Daryl looked over again. Her blonde hair looked darker when wet as a few pieces fell into her face before she removed them out of the way. Her blue eyes were trained on him for a long time it felt like, though he was positive it was only a few passing moments. Finally, she said, "You look lost."

In a way, he had been lost his whole life. But he had never been more lost than he was a few months ago when he thought Beth was gone for good. "I'm not the only one," he replied, biting his lip after the words came out. He didn't mean to say that to her but he had gotten into the habit when he was alone with Beth for weeks that he could say whatever came to mind that he just blurted it out without thinking first.

She didn't miss a beat. "We're lost together, then." Beth shrugged her shoulders, thinking about it more. "And maybe that's not the worst place to be."

He could have left then but he didn't know how to, not anymore, and he didn't have the willpower to get up and vanish into the night away from her. Again. Instead, he stayed there on the floor while Beth remained with her head resting on the tub edge gazing over at him. It wasn't until a while later that he heard the front door close loudly and Rick and Carol chatting downstairs in the living room. When he heard his name called, Daryl removed himself from the floor and grabbed a towel for Beth, walking over and placing it on the corner of the tub before saying, "For the record," he started, "You ain't a dead girl to me. Not before, at the shack, and not now." A brief smile came over her face and for a moment everything was alright.

He left after that and headed downstairs, realizing he had never questioned her on why she was in the house he was staying in and in his bathtub to begin with when he knew she had her own in the house next door. But it didn't matter and he didn't need to know why she chose there.

When he got downstairs, it was brief. Rick and Carol seemed paranoid about the new people _still _and Daryl just brushed it off. He was tired of it honestly. Sure, he nodded along with what they said in the beginning and voiced his opinion were it needed to be, but he felt good about Alexandria, in the sense that these people didn't have the guts to hurt anyone alive. They weren't playing them like Rick seemed to think. So Daryl gave the lame excuse of being tired and Carol immediately followed up by questioning if he was actually sleeping in his room that night, almost in a joking way, but also a hopeful one. And when he realized Beth was still upstairs, unless she had crawled out a window and down two stories, he replied with yes, he would sleep there, a sign that the both of them should give it a rest and stop scheming about the possible takeover of Alexandria. Because, yes, he noticed their secret little get-togethers where they talked in a whisper and then hurried off in separate directions like they had a plan going. Looked fucking suspicious and Daryl knew something was up. Hopefully him _settling in _would show them they could relax and not plot to take over the town.

They weren't those people. They couldn't be.

Daryl had already made the decision for himself that he refused to be part of it if it went down that direction. He wouldn't risk turning into some kind of monster. They had already run into too many of those on the road, dead and alive.

When they both leave to go check on the house next door, Daryl went back upstairs only to find Beth in the bed that was supposed to be his. She was all curled up under the sheets and her eyes were shut tight and Daryl was once again conflicted about what to do next.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a tension that immediately formed in his body, from his neck to his shoulders, all the way to the soles of his feet, caused by the conflict that had arose. There she was, all snuggled up tight with the soft looking sheets huddled around her.

Daryl was tired and it was that down to the bone kind of tired that made the whole body ache. He had been feeling that way a lot ever since leaving Georgia, with every step his body feeling more betrayed. It seemed like every other night his muscles turned against him out of spite for putting so much stress on his body. Physical, mental, and emotional stress. All very different in their nature yet all the same to Daryl.

So instead of taking the couch downstairs (which by the way he actually fucking hated with all his being because it had too many fancy and frilly decorative pillows and a weird itchy fabric) Daryl grabbed an extra soft blanket off the corner chair in the room and draped it over Beth carefully so that he didn't disturb her. She must have only been half asleep because her fingers wrapped around the new addition and her head shifted on the pillow, a small sigh escaping.

Daryl froze for a good few minutes and waited there right by the edge of the bed, afraid to move and wake her up, not only because it would, in fact, take her out of her sleep, but also he would be faced with the task of talking about why she was there in his bed, why he was there, and all the other shit he couldn't face just yet.

And he might not ever be ready to face it but he knew it was inevitable.

Once Daryl was sure that Beth was entirely asleep, he crossed the room and slowly pulled back the covers on the right side of the bed. Out of habit, he started to undress, pulling at the buttons of the shirt he had been wearing for a few days straight with various stains of who knew what, then stopped abruptly because of the obvious reasons.

Would it be improper of him?

He pondered the thought of if it would be inappropriate to take the clothes on his upper half off just to sleep like he normally would do without anyone there, then figured it didn't quite matter since he would be awake in the morning before Beth even woke up and no one but him would know about it. And it wasn't like he was planning on trying anything anyways, so what the hell.

Once the shirt dropped onto the expensive mahogany floor he already tracked mud onto, Daryl gently and as stealthy as possible slipped under the covers in preparation for the much needed sleep his body was craving. As dark as the room was, he could see almost perfectly once his eyes adjusted. It was like every speck on the wall stood out to him and every breath that Beth took next to him he could see as the covers rose and fell in the smallest bit since she was on her side facing his way. It was her breathing that soothed him enough to shut his own eyes and let sleep claim him for a little while.

—

In the middle of the night, Daryl was jolted awake with his body tense, hyperaware of all the surroundings. It was almost like he had awoken into a panicked state, the survival state. Eyes flashing open instantly, feeling of terror pulsing through his veins, and he wasn't sure what had led to the sudden pull out of sleep but he sure as hell was ready to fight if needed.

He could have been annoyed when it was clear that nothing was in immediate danger and he had been taken out of sleep for no reason, but chose to forget it. Granted, it had been a light sleep overall, always was, always would be, but still, _any_ sleep was good sleep.

Daryl rolled onto his back so he was flat against the bed, head rolling to the side to make sure that Beth was still there next to him, fearing that maybe he missed something initially and something related to her was the reason he was been taken out of sleep. Really, it was the only thing he cared about that moment—_her_. Seeing she was still there though, Daryl relaxed but his abrupt movements must have disturbed her and out of the corner of his eye, Daryl saw Beth starting to stir around, pulling at the blankets as she stretched before her eyes blinked open. He got the instant urge to look away and feign sleep, like he had been caught doing something bad when really all he was doing was watching her. Still, he abruptly glanced elsewhere.

Her voice was smooth and quiet with her inquiry. "Is it the scars?"

Daryl was confused. "What?"

"Is that why you're afraid to look at me?"

Being called out like that hit him like a punch to the face, so much that he almost physically recoiled, especially hearing the subtle undertone of sadness in her voice. "No," he outright denied, head shaking, trying to hold back the wince because he knew by him looking away it had hurt her in some way. "Of course not."

She waited, pondering if he was telling the truth. "Then what is it? Tell me."

"It's not the scars," he repeated, too afraid of admitting to the real reason. He gazed back up at her, eyelids feeling a bit heavy. "I promise it ain't that."

Beth wasn't satisfied with the answer. "Then what is it?" she asked again, begging him to tell her, urging for the truth to be told.

He couldn't bring himself to do it though, not when put on the spot like that. Beth grew tired of his unhelpful response and lingering silence so she huffed and flipped over so her back was facing him and pulled the covers up over herself again. It felt like he had been shunned.

She was upset with him, or maybe disappointed. Maybe both.

Probably both was the most likely story.

Daryl laid there a minute or two and slowly gathered up some courage and broke the painful silence. He messed with the edge of his pillow as he started, "I look too long and…and I, uh…"

(Yeah, the award for communication ain't exactly going to him. He knew)

"And what?" she demanded him to finish the sentence he had started, still with her back facing him.

"Feelings, they…"

_Feelings, _now that was a word he rarely ever spoke in his life. And he didn't know how to say it, how to communicate his thoughts properly so she would get what was going on in his mixed up mess of a brain. But that was the thing he never understood. She got it. Always did. Beth knew how to make sense of his jumbled words and how they translated back to what his thoughts were.

She nodded her head to encourage him further.

He was out of his fucking mind. Or maybe he was entirely sane. Deciphering the difference had turned into something that was too difficult.

Daryl gave out a defeated sounding sigh, almost getting up and going downstairs out of frustration when he couldn't put together the right sentence. "I'm shit at this."

Beth laughed genuinely. "I _know_." She flipped back over so she faced him. "But we can work on that." Beth lifted her hand and stroked Daryl's cheek, the sense of relief washing over him. "I just need you to promise me one thing, okay? Stop beating yourself up about it, what happened at the funeral home."

His teeth gritted together out of the memories that flashed though his mind. "I don't know if I can do that."

"You'll try," she firmly, yet hopefully responded. "We'll try together and we'll get through it. Step by step. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed to the terms.

And just like that, everything seemed to melt away, all the tension and locked up hatred he had toward himself for not checking the damn door before he opened it. Regret lingered, might always be there, but it was like Beth had given him a blessing by extracting out the self-hatred. Step by step, like she said. A long process but one that might not be a complete waste.

A few creaking sounds down the hall made him prop up on an elbow, looking towards the door. Any noise was suspicious to him, even there in a place he shouldn't be so on guard all the time but was so used to being. Old habits die hard.

"Relax," Beth whispered, tugging on his arm to get him to settle back down. Once he did, Beth pushed the sheet down away from her face. "I'm moving in with Aaron and Eric."

"Why?"

She didn't miss a beat when she replied, "Because I need to."

That was good enough for him. "Okay."

They settled in for some more silence, both listening to the howl of the wind outside batting against the windows that lined the bedroom side facing the street. They remained facing each other and Daryl began thinking back to when it was just the two of them and one would stay awake so the other could sleep. And they had slept in some interesting places—cars, sheds, the outside, even in a tree once because a bunch of walkers were in the area but they were both too tired to move any further. That had been one hell of a night. He had woken up with a back ache from the bark only to see Beth throwing stones onto the ground below to get the walkers to go in a different direction, but also just to kind of messing with them for the hell of it.

Yeah, they definitely had some stories to tell. And then some they would never dare speak of to anyone else. Like the time Daryl accidently cut the side of his abdomen on a broken branch and Beth cleaned it up for him, pushing up his shirt and placing a hand very low on his opposite hip. And how Daryl had felt her breathing on his skin right above the top of his pants, causing him to redden in the face and look the other way until she was finished.

Maybe that had been the beginning. In that moment.

Or possibly the second he rode up to the farm had been their beginning. Just a matter of time and the right circumstances to push them together.

And he had gotten used to her sleeping there with him. Not _with_ him like they were then, right next to each other, just the two of them being in the general vicinity was what he was used to. When Beth slept, Daryl always made sure she was only a few steps away in case they had to get up quickly. And when he was the one asleep, it was sort of a requirement that she be even closer otherwise he just would lay or sit down with his eyes closed and pretend to sleep, too afraid of drifting off and possibly losing her.

So her sleeping there in his bed wasn't too odd after all, he concluded. All was normal until her lips brushed over his and Daryl didn't resist. And then she was pulling him onto her, the weight settling in as their bodies readjusted, and still he didn't resist a single bit. Beth slid her legs up so that he fell between. And it all felt good, so right and natural that he didn't question anything. He should have, maybe, but not then. He was too comfortable and had spent too long aching for her.

When her lips touched his neck, she was already undoing his pants and sliding them down before she tore off what little she had on. Her skin felt so smooth under his touch, even if he was pawing at her flesh, needing more. A moan came out from Beth's mouth, it sounding much more like a humming noise, at least to his ears. But however nice the noise was, it went right down to his already hard member.

Beth placed her hands onto his sides and wiggled around underneath him, spreading her legs further. It nearly killed him right there, all the motion below him, the friction of her skin on his dick. She picked her hips up slightly when Daryl shoved his hand down between them to grab a hold and guide himself towards her, feeling the wetness on the most sensitive part of the tip.

"Beth," he said while looking straight at her, moving some hair away from her face so nothing was obstructing the view. "Beth."

She gave another small moan in reply, indicating she was all for what was happening, even slipping her hands down to his ass and putting some pressure on him to get him inside of her more. He went in slowly, painfully slowly, enjoying the tightness. A glance at Beth and she looked uncomfortable until she noticed his gaze and threw him a one sided smile.

Daryl moved then, Beth's hands on his sides so that she could be in some sort of control of the movements as Daryl went from slow and careful to a quicker rhythmic pace. Sloppy and wet kisses were placed on her neck in between the deep breaths he was taking in to keep steady.

Despite the room being cool before, Daryl's body temperature had risen so much that sweat was accumulating along his hairline, making some of the hair stick. His breath went untamed and the thrusts came at a more fast paced, at the same time he was trying to be as gentle as possible while still giving into all the urges his body was telling him.

He made some desperate noises from the base of this throat as the feeling got better and better until he fell apart as Beth held him, nuzzled into her neck, feeling as if nothing bad could ever happen to him again when Beth instinctively pulled him closer and gave a content sigh into his ear.

At least for one night, the world didn't seem so terrible after all.


End file.
